It is 9PM in Korea and I've been up now for exactly 24 hours. I kind am seeing blurred bits around the edges of my eyes, so I am going to make this post short - not like my flight. At all.
Since noon today I've been struggling with ethical issues, namely, why the hell do these people think I'm important? I mean, the amount of paper one PR rep wastes on one journalist is probably more than she'll ever write in her life. I have bags of brochures and guides and pocket books, and I am just wondering, what do you think I'm going to do with this? Do you think I'm an executive. Do I LOOK like an executive? Why do you think giving a lowly edit assistant a first class flight around the world is EVER going to benefit you?
The first class flight, by the way, was exquisite. I can't sleep a wink (I need my feet to be level with my head to sleep. That's the absolute truth, and I just realized it as I was writing this), the movies were awful, but goodness I love airplane food. The perfect servings. The anticipation. The perfect pairing of tomato juice and cracker. It's appealing to the side of me that has always been fascinated with TV dinners - all of your senses being appealed to at once. Lovely.
I watched Kung Fu Panda (charming, innocuous), Hancock (confusing, innocuous) and Love Story (sad...and just, sad) and did a fair amount of work. Didn't manage to drink enough to kill the time, but I did get to keep the little slippers! (Add that to the list of things people waste on me...)
Ok, hitting delirium. Here is one shot, of me, right now: